by A'zayler
Don’s body stilled when Jeff walked past. He held his breath, unsure if Jeff would spot him or not, but when he heard the door slam again he figured the coast was clear. Don waited to move until he’d heard the sound of a car cranking up and peeling out of the parking lot.
He wasted no time getting out of the building. With his blanket stuffed into his backpack and a better life on his mind, Don set off into the darkness to find Echo and get them a plan going.
From that day to this current one, they’d been doing everything they could to get ready for the night at hand. It was the thirtieth, and the man would be arriving at the abandoned barbershop within the next ten minutes. Don had just parked Bishop’s truck when he saw a pair of headlights shining behind him. He hurried to check his face in the mirror before getting out. He already knew they could only belong to one person. Echo wasn’t set to arrive until Don called. Being in the streets, they both knew how first impressions could determine the outcome of life and death. The last thing they wanted to do was bombard the man and end up dying because of it.
With his hood still on his head, Don stood next to the truck with his hands still in his pocket. His heartbeat thumped rapidly as his hands opened and closed steadily in his pocket. He nodded his head to the beat in his mind as the headlights shined on him. He waited patiently on them to analyze the situation and make their move.
Nearly ten minutes passed with nothing happening, so Don made his first. With his head down and hands still hidden, he walked to the back of the truck and opened the back door. He pulled out the six large bags weighed down with Bishop’s re-up money and new product. As a gesture of good faith, he unzipped two of the bags, pulling money out of one, and neatly wrapped drugs from the other.
He held them up, and for another few minutes the air around him was filled with uncertainty and regret, but he’d come too far to turn back now, so he maintained his cool and waited. It felt like forever for the front door to the dark-colored SUV to open. Out stepped a big burly man with a long ponytail and a neat black suit. His eyes were shielded by a pair of sunglasses, but Don could tell he was watching him.
The man’s large stature seemed to grow another few sizes when he was in front of Don snatching him from the ground. The money and drugs fell to the ground as the man patted him down roughly, pulling at his clothes before snatching his gun from his waistband. He tossed it to the side before continuing his search. When he was satisfied, he stood massively in front of Don.
“Who are you? Where’s Jeff?”
Don fixed his clothes while making the best eye contact he could make through the man’s shades in the dark night.
“There is no more Jeff, and I’m . . .” Don pondered over his words. “Somebody your boss wants to know.” Even with his body shaking in anticipation, Don was confident in his ability and decision making.
The man sized him up as the seconds passed before slapping him hard on the shoulder. “I will kill you.”
“There will be no need for that,” Don assured him.
With weighted footsteps, the man walked to the opposite side of the truck and opened the back door. A fancy white shoe that lit up the night emerged from the car. A pants leg the same color topped the ankle of the shoe as the other leg followed. When the man was upright, the two men spoke in hushed tones before the person Don was hoping would change his life rounded the door.
He was decked out in all white, from his head down to his feet. Even his hair and facial hair was white. Nothing like what Don had been expecting, but either way, he was there to do business and nothing more. Everything about the man looked expensive. Not that Don was privy to high-end brands or anything like that, but anybody with eyes could see this man was draped in nothing but the best. The iced-out watch and pinky ring further proved Don right.
The closer he got, the more profound his skin color became. The brownish-red hue to it made Don think of the beach. He looked like someone who lived and breathed under the sun and next to the ocean, but the dark lines in his forehead and heavy bags beneath his eyes told a different story.
“So, I’ve been told you’re someone I would want to know? Is that correct?”
Don strained his ears to understand the man’s heavy accent and nodded.
“What would make you think I would want to know someone like you?” The older man’s eyes trekked up and down Don’s clothing. He did nothing to hide his disapproval of Don’s appearance. “You look like trash.”
Don could feel himself getting hotter, but he took a deep breath and suppressed it. He needed this. On top of that, he couldn’t argue with the truth.
“Whenever entertaining money, look the part. You got that?”
Don nodded.
“Appearance is everything. People see you before they hear you, and judging by what I see, nothing you have to say may be worth my time.” He gave Don the once over again. “Speak, and hurry up.”
Don glared at the man with fury burning behind his eyes. The confidence he’d had before had been washed away by the man’s insults. In a world where Don had nothing but his respect, he’d fold before he let another man strip it away from him.
“Humility is also everything. If you present yourself like a self-absorbed jackass, people will treat you as such. Your personality can take you places that your money can’t, and judging by what I just heard, I’d rather not do business with you.” Don kicked the two bags in front of him toward the man before snatching the other four from the truck.
Once they were all on the ground in front of the man, he stood back to his full height. “In these bags is Bishop’s most recent re-up and the money he was paid to cap your ass. He got the work from your competition as well as the cash. Him, Jeff, and that nigga Ditto from up north was planning on taking your old ass out tonight and pushing on without you, but I heard them and stopped the shit. But, I’m sure your head was too high in the clouds to know that shit.” Don scoffed.
“How do you know this?”
“Because I heard them say it right after you left here the last time. They weren’t feeling your approach, so they were going to push you out altogether.”
The man’s eyebrows rose. “What were you doing here that night? You work for them?”
Don shook his head once. “Nah, I’m more of an independent contractor.”
“Don’t fuck with me.”
“I’m not. I work for myself and that’s it. I do little shit here and there that nobody else wants to do for the cash that nobody else wants to make. I’m homeless and I do what needs to be done to stay fed. That’s it.”
“Do you know who I am?”
“Nope.”
“So, why do something of this magnitude?” He motioned towards the bags sitting between them.
“The night you met with them, I was here on the floor sleeping. I overheard the way you spoke about loyalty and actually kind of respected it, so when I heard that nigga Jeff talking on the phone about all of this, I took matters into my own hands. I used that hoe Mocha to help me set it all up, and here I am.” Don wrapped up his entire month of hard work in a couple of need-to-know sentences.
“And you did all of this with just the help of some prostitute?”
Don shook his head. “I had a friend, but he can come around later. Right now, it’s just you and I.”
With his hand to his chin, the older gentleman pulled at the white beard as he stared at Don in deep thought. Don waited on his next words, because they would decide his next move. It would take him absolutely nothing to grab his gun from the ground and kill them both before they had time to react. He was just that good, however he hoped it would go a different way. His lifestyle needed a change.
“Where are the traitors now?”
“No longer a problem.”
His eyes widened in alarm, but he masked it just as quick as it had come. “I assume that was your doing?”
“You would assume right. Bishop, Mocha, and Jeff. Ditto wasn’t here or he would be out of the picture
as well.” Don shrugged. “I figured you had ways to handle that though.”
The air between the men was filled with unasked questions, but neither of them said anything to address them. Don had shot his ball directly into the stranger’s court, it was up to him what he was going to do with it.
“Tell me your name.”
“Don’t have one. Yours?”
A steady hand went back to the long white beard. “Sergio Ortega.”
“Never heard of you.”
“And you never will.” He looked over his shoulder to his bodyguard and nodded his head toward Don.
Before the man or Sergio could move another muscle, Don had fallen onto the ground next to his gun and aimed it at them. The guard had his hand on his waist in what appeared to be his attempt to retrieve his gun, but Don was faster.
“It ain’t going down like this. Y’all can take that shit and count it as a favor, but I’m leaving with my life and that’s on me.” He stood to his feet slowly. “It’s up to y’all if y’all do the same.” Now in full combat mode, Don’s eyes bounced between the two men, but stayed on the bodyguard.
Sergio hadn’t moved to do anything, and didn’t look like he was about to either.
“What’s it going to be?”
“Quick reflexes, I like that.”
Don said nothing.
“What is it that you said you do again?”
“I didn’t say.”
“Who taught you to move like that?”
“The hood.”
Sergio chuckled a little before pointing a finger at Don. “You’re something special, I can tell. You need a little help in the grooming department, but I can handle that.” For the first time that night, he rendered a smile. “How much are your services? Since you’re an independent contractor and all.” His accent was heavier due to his laughter.
Don found nothing funny, so he didn’t laugh. Instead he looked from the bodyguard to Sergio and back again before squeezing his hand around the handle of his gun. He wouldn’t move until he was sure they weren’t about to kill him first.
The silence grew as they all stood facing one another. Nothing in the air changed until Sergio stepped forward and pushed the top of Don’s gun down. Don allowed him to do it, only because he stepped closer and began saying things he wanted to hear.
“I want you to come work for me. Tell me what you’re good at.” Sergio stood face to face with Don, invaded every ounce of his personal space. “I can use you.”
“Use me to do what?”
Sergio laughed heartily. “Grow my empire, son . . . to grow my empire.” More laughter flowed from Sergio as he grabbed Don around the neck and pulled him into a small hug. “You ready for this shit?”
Don looked into Sergio’s smiling face and said nothing. He was still too busy trying to thank God that his plan had worked out. The only thing he hoped now, was that it was all that he’d been praying for.
“You have any family here, son?”
Don wasn’t big on the “son” verbiage, but he’d let it slide for now. Maybe that was just the way he spoke.
“Just the friend I spoke of earlier.”
Sergio stopped walking and turned Don to face him. With both of his hands resting on Don’s shoulders he stared him in the face. Don’s body shook lightly when Sergio gave his shoulders a firm shake. No more movement came from Don’s body until Sergio slapped his face lightly. Don pulled his head away to free it from Sergio’s range of motion.
Sergio dropped his hand from Don’s face before a grin crossed his face. “Don’t worry, son, we’ll get to know each other soon enough. For now, on to more important things.”
“Such as?”
“Take me to the bodies. I need to make sure all of this is true.”
Don nodded his head backward toward Bishop’s truck. “Your car or Bishop’s?”
Sergio raised his eyebrows. “Bishop’s?”
“Yeah, I drove it from the spot.”
Sergio looked back at his bodyguard as he walked toward the truck. “Anybody saw you do this?”
“No.”
“Are you sure about that?” Sergio rubbed his beard.
Don noted that was clearly something he did when thinking.
“Yeah. No one snitches on me.”
“Good.” Sergio turned and walked back to his truck. “Since you’ve helped me, I’m going to help you.”
Before getting into the car, he faced Don and observed him quietly. “Where are you living right now, kid?”
“Anywhere and nowhere at the same time.”
Another smile. “I fucking love you. Get in.”
“In your car?”
“Yes, son, with me. We have somewhere to be.”
Don looked around at nothing in particular, just trying to process what was happening and how fast it was happening. He’d been hoping the meeting went well, but he hadn’t known it would be of this magnitude. The feeling of it being too good to be true was heavy on him, but he pushed it away. He’d been on his knees before the creator for years begging for a break, maybe it had finally come. Sergio seemed like a cool dude, and was embracing him rather quickly, but that alone made Don a little eerie.
“How do you know you can trust me?” Don asked him.
Sergio clasped his hands together loudly and held them there before raising them to his mouth. He held them still for a few seconds before shaking them toward Don while walking toward him.
“Because I live off loyalty, and you were loyal to me before you even knew who I was.” Sergio motioned for Don to come to him. “Come, we have work to do.”
This time, Don went with no problem. Sergio was definitely a man he could work with. Not too many people shared his values in life, and anyone who did had to be trustworthy. It took a few minutes for everybody to settle down in the car, but once they did, Sergio turned to Don.
“To establish trust, we must be honest with one another no matter what, you hear me?”
Don nodded. “Understood.”
“Once we’re family, there’s no going back. You good with that?”
Don was quiet for a while, contemplating how much that statement weighed before nodding.
“Give me your name.”
“Don Free.”
Sergio nodded before sitting back in his seat. “Free-Ortega.”
Don fought the feeling in his chest.
“Would you prefer Don or Free?”
Don pondered his question for a minute because he’d never thought much about his name. It was what it was, and he was who he was, there was no need for specifics, but now it felt like more. His new identity, his new world, his new life.
“Free.” Don glanced at Sergio before sitting back in the seat and looking out of the window. He didn’t know what lay ahead, but he did know he was ready for whatever it was.
“Here’s to a new beginning, kid.” Sergio’s outstretched fist hung between them.
Don pressed his against it. “A new beginning.”
Don ran his open palms over the front of his jeans while trying to calm his nerves. It was really happening. The moment he’d been waiting for, or so he thought.
“You know, son, it’s funny you picked the name Free.”
Don looked his way. “What’s funny about it?”
Sergio looked his way while digging in his pocket. “Because that’s the opposite of what you’ll be for the next few years of your life.”
Don’s eyebrows scrunched up at the sight of the shiny badge hanging from the wallet in Sergio’s hand. Though he couldn’t read the small words, the big FBI abbreviation hadn’t lost his attention yet.
“Man, what the fuck!” Don slid down in the seat at the same time as two more large trucks pulled in behind him with flashing blue lights in their window.
Everything after that happened at the speed of lightning. All he knew was that Sergio’s words definitely held some truth. Free was indeed the last thing he would be for years to come. But . . . who the fuck tol
d? Don closed his eyes trying to think of any loose ends and they popped back open immediately. Where the fuck was that nigga Echo?
1
Who would have known?
Eight Years later . . .
2Pac’s “Thug Passion” blared though the massive living room as people crowded in and out of her best friend Katara’s house. The bass from the speakers was so loud that it vibrated the walls, the ceilings, and the floors. Guests packed the room from left to right as they danced, smoked, drank, and interacted with each other.
The potent smell of weed floated throughout the room as Danna passed through it trying to make her way to Katara’s room. It was both Danna and Katara’s mothers’ birthdays and they’d brought the hood out to celebrate. Not only were Eva and Vonetta mothers and wives, but they were the queens of their hoods and their households as well. Eva, Katara’s mother, was the bootleg lady, and Danna’s mother Vonetta was the heart of it all. Everybody and their mama knew Vonetta, which was probably why Katara’s house looked like an overcrowded bootleg house. Food, partiers, and liquor were everywhere.
Twenty-three-year-old Danna Mendoza, the daughter of old school drug dealer, Echo Mendoza, was a young hood princess with more attitude than people knew how to deal with. Hood but not ghetto, Danna knew all the ins and outs of the streets. Her father’s only daughter, and her mother’s youngest one, Danna was spoiled to the max. Vonetta spoiled all her children to be for real, but she really doted on Danna and Ezra. They were the youngest of her four children, and the only two that didn’t drive her crazy with foolishness every day. Well, at least Ezra didn’t. Danna had her days where she cut the fool and got cussed out like her older siblings, but those days were few and far apart.
Danna would rather spend most of her time spending money and playing with the hood niggas. At average height with long thick legs and wide hips, Danna kept the street niggas going crazy. A flat stomach, with glowing slanted eyes and a smile to kill, pushed Danna to a totally different level than most of her friends. She was a different type of pretty.